Family Series: Uncle
by Banana Flavored Eskimo
Summary: Repost: Hermione discovers that her dear Uncle is into some really paranormal things. Things that are far beyond even an accomplished witch such as herself.


**Uncle**  
**By: Banana Flavored Eskimo**

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter

* * *

"This is it."

Her boots shuffled along the ground, kicking up clouds of dirt with each step. Adjusting her baseball cap, her whiskey colored eyes squinted against the harsh sunlight.

Was this it? The only way she would ever know was if she actually had the courage to ask.

Several months ago, her only desire had been to retrieve her parents from Australia. She was stupid to think that they would be safe. They were muggles. How could they possibly stand against a fully trained dark wizard? What little edge they had, had been robbed of them the moment she erased all memories of the magical world from their minds.

She had hunted the bastard down and cursed him. Remorse was something that escaped her with the war. She knew that placing him under an unforgivable would make no difference. It wouldn't bring her parents back, but she'd felt some sort of twisted satisfaction knowing that he was now rotting away in Azkaban, the crippling pain from her curse a constant reminder.

She had wanted to escape. The war was still so fresh in everyone's mind and despite the fact that Harry had triumphed, the remnants of darkness still clung to their world like a sick coat of darkness that would take years to eradicate.

It was a responsibility on her part, but she saw it more as a blessing. Her father had been an only child, but her mother had an older sister. She was a bit of the black sheep in the family, running off to America in order to pursue her dream to become an actress.

Her aunt ended up working for minimum wage in some dingy roadside diner and marrying a gruff looking man who salvaged automobile parts for a living. It wasn't particularly the dream that the woman had left to chase, but she was strangely happy in America.

She recalled meeting them once during a family trip to the Americas. The Granger family had stayed two weeks in Winner, South Dakota before moving on to see obligatory landmarks and crowded tourist attractions.

During those two weeks, Hermione had learned that her gruff uncle had a very dry sense of humor, was completely head over heels with her aunt and continually referred to her as _girl_.

However, that was years ago. What would her aunt and uncle say when they learned of her parents death? Would they even care? They had to. They were family. True, they rarely communicated save for the odd phone call during Christmas every now and then, but otherwise they barely contacted one another.

Taking a deep breath, she shifted somewhat uncomfortably in place. She had been standing in front of a shifty building surrounded by piles of scrap metal and other discarded car parts for at least ten minutes now.

"You can do this Granger." Somehow, that actually gave her a bit of confidence.

"You going to stand there all day girl?"

Shifting her weight, she brought her hands up in a defensive stance only to pause in surprise. "Uncle Bobby?"

Bobby Singer tilted his head to the side, his mocha colored eyes taking in the slip of a girl looking ready to fight him. His mind thought the idea of her possibly engaging in a fight with him hilarious, but his instinct said otherwise.

Her stance was perfect. It was flexible, allowing her to play either offense or defense. Question was, who was she and would he have to kill her? Experience taught him to be weary of everyone, even a tiny bit like this new mystery girl.

Only after a few moments did her words finally register in his mind. "Uncle?"

She relaxed her stance. "It's me Uncle Bobby. Hermione. Ella's daughter."

Ella. Now there was a name he hadn't heard in quite some time. The last time he heard from her, Beth had been alive…

"Uncle Bobby?"

Shaking his mind from his thoughts, a crooked grin crossed his features. "Look at you girl. All grown up."

"It's been ten years Uncle," she said with an embarrassed blush.

Ten years. Had it been that long? The last time he had seen Hermione, she had barely reached past his waist. She was a bossy little thing that was all wild curls and sunny smiles. Now, the top of her head reached his chin. She was short, then again so was Ella and Beth. She obviously inherited her height from her mother's side.

Her hair had calmed down some, but it was mostly tucked under an old Yankee's cap. She was dressed in a simple flannel buttoned down shirt with a pair of jeans that looked it had seen better days with all the rips in them.

However, it was her eyes that caught his attention. The usually sparkling brown was now somewhat shadowed and subdued. What happened to the girl in order for that to happen?

"Uncle Bobby, we need to talk."

Bobby sucked in a short breath. He never did like that sentence or the conversation that followed it. Something was wrong.

* * *

"A burglar?"

"They didn't have a chance."

His sister-in-law had been killed by a burglar along with her husband during a trip to Australia.

Shaking his head, he looked at the young woman who was now staring idly into her empty cup of coffee. "Did they catch him?"

"Life sentence with no chance for parole."

Her fingers ran along the rim of the porcelain mug.

"What about Aunt Beth? Is she out?"

She didn't know. She didn't know because he didn't tell her. He didn't even tell her mother, his wife's sister.

"Beth died about seven years ago. Car crash."

Hermione felt her shoulders slump. Her parents were dead and now her aunt. Brilliant. Bloody brilliant! All of her blood ties were deceased and her only familial connection was with a stern old man who she honestly didn't really know.

"Where will you stay?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Bobby chuckled at her wording. The Brits always had an interesting way of saying things. Hearing it come from his niece, who was dressed like any other local, was somewhat amusing.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

No. No she didn't. Then again, she hadn't really planned this far ahead. She had originally hoped that she could stay with her aunt for a few days until she could get her life sorted out.

She didn't reply. That in itself was enough of an answer for him.

"I don't have hot running water. The heater is broken so you'll have to make do with cold showers."

"Uncle?"

Bobby rolled his eyes at her confused expression. "Go on out back to the pickup girl. We have to do some grocery shopping tonight. I have no food in my fridge."

Hermione stared at her uncle, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Thank you."

Bobby merely waved his hand. "You'll thank me by cooking. I'm shit in the kitchen."

* * *

Three weeks. One week shy of a month.

Had it really been that long? It seemed like only yesterday she was lecturing her uncle about his poor eating habits and lack of cleanliness.

She had itched to simply take out her wand and _scourgify _the entire household, but had refrained from doing so. Instead, she had spent the better part of a week cleaning his home from top to bottom.

Immersing her gloved hands into the soapy water, she methodically ran a sponge in circular motions over a small dish.

It was a simple arrangement. She would clean and cook and in return he would provide her with a place to stay, food and transportation. She didn't mind, for the mundane work allowed her thoughts to escape her and find some peace.

A small smirk played across her lips. Who knew being domestic could be so therapeutic?

"Girl? Hermione? You here?"

Hermione turned towards the sound. Her uncle was home early today. It was only two in the afternoon. He'd usually stayed holed up at the yard well into the evening, sometimes not coming home at all.

That was why she started making meals for him to take to the yard. At first he had seemed somewhat put off by the entire idea, but had accepted her food with a soft grunt. He didn't say it often, but she knew he appreciated the gesture. The way he'd pat her head before he left with a short "stay out of trouble girl," was telling. She was growing on her uncle.

"Yes?"

"Ah hmm. You're here," he said somewhat uncomfortably. "Do me a favor and run an errand for me?"

"Now?"

"Yes. I need you to pick up some parts from Springview. Take the truck."

"Springview?" she questioned in bewilderment. "That's an hour drive. One way."

"So it's best if you go now if you want to come back before dark."

"Uncle Bobby, I'm not comfortable with driving that far."

It was true. She was a witch. She had only learned how to drive recently and that was to the grocery store. Taking the long drive to Springview alone was daunting to say the least.

"It's a long stretch of road with barely any other cars. You'll be fine."

Hermione frowned. He was being rather pushy. "Why are you so adamant about me going?"

"Damn it girl! Stop questioning your elders and do as you're told," Bobby growled.

A sudden knock at the door brought the two from their argument. "Hermione, please go upstairs."

In all her time here, her uncle had never called her by her name. Her uncle was looking at her with a nervous sort of exhaustion. Something was off, but now was not the time to question him. "Yes sir."

She'd find out soon enough. She had already lost her parents and her aunt. The brunette would be damned if she lost her uncle too, no matter how grumpy he could be.

* * *

Her uncle was into some paranormal stuff.

When he had informed her that he would be gone for a few days on a hunting trip with the boys, she had assumed that he would be off shooting a deer or some other poor creature of the wilderness.

She had never thought he meant hunting demons and other supernatural beings. Then again, she didn't think he wanted her to know in the first place.

It was on the third day of his absence, and the last day of her search of the house, did she realize that whatever it was her uncle was hiding was not hidden at home. Therefore, she had gone to the only other place he could possibly hide anything he wouldn't want her stumbling across: the yard.

She had _apparated_into his ransack little office and had stumbled across a hidden room. Within the room was something out of the twilight zone. Books written in languages that she couldn't even decipher lined the walls. Papers with symbols and runes were scribbled somewhat half-hazardly everywhere. Strange relics and weapons were stowed away safely within a glass case.

Either her uncle was some sort of Squib or he was crazy. She hoped it was the first of the two.

"Stop bitching _Samantha_. It's only a scratch."

Hermione felt her breath leave her. Someone was here. Hopefully, they would leave soon."

"Leave him be boy. That chant took a lot out of him."

The brunette cursed wildly in her mind. It was her uncle. He was here with at least two others and they were approaching his not so secret room.

Closing her eyes, she focused on her magic only to find herself unable to _apparate_. Something in this little hideaway was keeping her from _apparating_!

Smiling nervously at her shocked uncle and confused companions, she waved rather weakly at the older man. "Hello."

* * *

Dean eyed the small brunette, a pleased grin stealing across his features. Taking in her cut off jean shorts and simple buttoned down collared shirt, his hazel orbs rolled over her shapely little figure.

Demon or no, she was definitely something to look at.

Sam frowned, his hand gripping the cut on his side to slow the flow of blood. Gritting his teeth he stared at the unknown stranger. "_Christo_."

Bobby smacked the taller of the two upside his head. "She isn't a demon boy."

"Well hello there gorgeous," said Dean with his usual panty dropping smile that had gotten him laid far more times than he could recall.

The eldest hunter growled at the smooth talking brother, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and forcefully yanking him back towards himself and Sam. "Oh no you don't boy and don't even think it. That's my niece you're trying to chat up!"

"Niece?" questioned the two brothers in shock. They hadn't even known Bobby had family.

"His wife was my mothers elder sister," Hermione said somewhat awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable about the entire situation at hand.

Dean's grin turned practically feral. "She's British! Your accent is hot gorgeous."

"You're pushing it boy!"

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Dean merely smirked at the irate hunter. "I get it. She's your niece, so she's off limits. I was just having fun."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. He could be such a bastard at times. "What's your name?"

"You're hurt."

"That's a weird name." Dean snorted.

Bobby's hand contacted with the back of Dean's head.

Hermione ignored the shorter male. He was obviously only trying to push everyone's buttons. Stepping towards the tallest, she brought a hand towards his injured side. "May I?"

Sam stole a look at Bobby, unsure.

"Go on boy."

Her fingers idly pushed his shirt upwards, a blush darkening her features upon revealing his toned abdomen.

"If you think that's something gorgeous, you should see mine," leered Dean with a naughty grin.

"Shut up Dean."

"Yes, shut up Dean. You're acting like a complete _tosser_."

Dean barked out a laugh. "Did you hear that Sammy? She's insulting me in British!"

Rolling her eyes heavenward, she caught the same expression crossing _Sammy's_.

"Ignore him."

Hermione smiled softly. "It's alright. I've heard worse," she said as her finger ran the length of the cut.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sam winced in pain.

"_Episkey_," the brunette said softly, a warm blue light emanating from her fingertips.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise as he watched his flesh grow and knit together to leave nothing but a light tingling sensation.

"What the hell was that?"

One could always count on Dean to be so eloquent during moments like these.

Hermione offered a small grin to her bewildered uncle. "Surprise?"

* * *

"Witch."

"What exactly do you hunt?"

Bobby breathed out a long sigh. "Anything that needs to be hunted."

Hermione frowned. "Have you ever hunted witches before?"

"If you're worried about us hunting you girl, you've got nothing to fear. As far as we can tell, you're a good witch."

"Like Glinda!"

Hermione gave a wry smile. "I suppose good is a relative term. Nobody is inherently good."

Sam smiled. She was an intellect. He could tell. "Perhaps, but it's how we use our gifts that determine whether we're doing so for good or evil."

"Do you have a broom?"

"No Dean, I don't like to fly." Hermione replied.

Bobby frowned, his sharp brown eyes focusing upon his niece. "Your parents didn't die due to a burglar, did they?"

"No. They didn't. An evil wizard cursed them," she said somewhat lifelessly. "What of Aunt Beth? Am I safe in assuming she didn't die in a car crash?"

"Demon possessed her. I had to exorcise the son of a bitch. Your aunt didn't survive."

Hermione nodded her head. Her uncle had to kill his wife in order to set her free. Gods, her family was just a chalk-full of mystical fun.

"How long have you been hunting?"

"Since Beth."

"And these boys?"

"Hold up there Glinda," said Dean with a frown. "I'm twenty-six and Samantha over there is twenty-two. We haven't been boys for awhile."

Hermione raised a brow at the new nickname. However she wasn't going to complain. She'd take Glinda over gorgeous any day.

"Very well, how long have you and your brother been hunting?"

"We were bred to do this." Dean replied, surprisingly without any other side comment.

Sam sighed, seeing that his brother was going into what he called _Hunter Mode_. Dean could come off as laid back and somewhat crude, but he could be something else entirely when on the hunt. "Our father taught us from a young age."

"So then you can all teach me." Hermione said it with such finality, it offered no room for argument.

"Wait a minute! What do you mean teach you girl?!"

Bobby wasn't pleased. A hunter lifestyle was harsh and had a very high fatality rate. There was no way in seven hells was his niece going to enter the field.

"I don't think you really have a say Uncle Bobby."

"Girl. Hermione. Think about this for a moment."

Hermione sighed. "I did and I'm tired trying to forget. Like it or not I'm magical and nothing I can do will ever change that. I might as well use my powers for the greater good."

"Listen Glinda-"

Before he could finish his sentence, all three hunters watched in a mixture of shock and amazement as the petite witch transformed into a sleek lioness. Her strong form prowled the small room, poised for attack.

"Hermione!?"

Pouncing upon the tallest Winchester brother, she transformed mid jump and landed quite easily upon the stunned male. Straddling his prone form, she gave a feral grin. "As you can see, I'm capable of caring for myself."

Sam's eyes widened to comic proportions, his body shifting under her slight weight.

"Better let up Glinda or Sammy might show you _his _wand."

A furious blush stole across her features as Hermione practically jumped from her position.

"You're crude Winchester."

Dean offered her a racy smirk.

For the third time that evening, Bobby's hand made contact with the back of Dean's head.

* * *

**AN:**Yes, I know that Dean was born in 79', therefore making him the same age as Hermione, but I needed him and Sam to be older because if they were the same age, then poor Sam would be fourteen… O_o;

Reposted because I am planning to post the next part of the series soon. Be on the lookout for Brothers.

Review?

- Banana Flavored Eskimo


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